


To Be Where You Are

by potterandpromises



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Flash Fic, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterandpromises/pseuds/potterandpromises
Summary: The short, unrelated misadventures of Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson.(Title is from Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine, the best queerplatonic Joanlock song in existence.)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & Joan Watson
Kudos: 16





	1. Camping

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 28th, 2020 on Tumblr; written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: stranded/lost.

“Fear not, Watson! As you can hear, Grasshoppers are plentiful this time of year and if that fails, I spotted multiple ant colonies half a mile back.”

“We’re lost in Central Park. The only thing I’m worried about is Everyone making us do this again.” Joan fingers her singlestick.

“All they ever wanted was our humiliation” —Sherlock plucks a stray pigeon feather from his camouflage— “and the camera did break quite spectacularly.”

She chuckles.

“What?”

“Have I ever mentioned our story is a comedy?”

He looks at her in earnest, and stares into the middle distance. “Better then a tragedy." 


	2. Sick Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted November 30th on Tumblr; written for the Found Family Bingo prompt: illness

“Are you going to get sick like Mommy?”

Sherlock’s heart sinks. He wipes the snot off his own face.

“Is your hair going to fall out too?”

“No, no Arthur, of course not.” His eyes are wide and sad, bottom lip protruding. This boy can get to him so easily, Sherlock knew that would be the case, but still, it’s madding. He kneels, they’re eye level.

“I have the flu,” he explains. “You know how you catch colds sometimes? It’s a virus, similar to that, it’s nothing like cancer.” Arthur looks utterly unconvinced. As much as they tried to shield him from Watson’s illness, it wasn’t enough. Maybe that’s normal, maybe children never grow up completely well-adjusted and unscathed. He’ll have to ask Watson.

“But you never get sick,” he protests, little voice thick with emotion.

"Everyone gets sick sometimes, Arthur. Everyone. Our families help us to get better.”

“Promise?”

“I made you some of _that_ tea you like,” Watson interrupts, coming upstairs.

Sherlock smiles. “See?”


	3. Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Found Family Bingo prompt platonic co-parenting.

Arthur sits on the steps of the school building, staring at his knees and trying not to cry.

This boy, this 12 year old boy. Knowing him, it’s as if Sherlock’s heart is wondering around on the outside; it’s unlike any love he’s ever felt, even for Watson. 

“What happened?” he asks. Arthur snuffles. “Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. He called his mother, vague but clearly distressed and in need of early pick up from school, but her case had just hit a pivotal, time sensitive turn and so Sherlock came instead. He nods. “Let’s get you home.”

Arthur remains silent the whole way, running up to his room once inside. On the other side of the door, Sherlock hears him crying. 

“May I come in?”

”No!”

So he sits on the floor in the hallway and waits. And waits. When Watson gets home, he fills her in on Arthur and she informs him Arabella Ramos, former missing person, is alive and being treated in hospital.

“Arthur, honey?” She opens the door gently, Sherlock follows her in but keeps a distance. “What happened?”

”How can you love me?”

It’s as if someone stabbed that heart of his with a pen-knife.

”Arthur... how could I not love you?” She lies down next to him. “You’re my son. You’re the most beautiful boy in the world.”

“What happened?” Sherlock repeats, a hitch to his voice.

”Just” —Arthur sucks in a breath, made difficult from all the crying— “kids at school.”

Sherlock sucks in a breath of his own, seeing red for a split second. “Kids can be so cruel.”

Joan’s face bares a similar devastation.

Sherlock joins the pair, lying down on his stomach. Only then does he notice his own tears.

They stay like that, a family, until long after Arthur falls asleep.


End file.
